


How Legends Are Made

by Red_x3



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, M/M, McGenji - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Partners to Lovers, Slow Burn, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 03:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_x3/pseuds/Red_x3
Summary: The world is ravaged by monsters of all sorts and humanity's last hope are monster hunters. Jesse McCree is one such hunter who finds himself in King's Row. Just as he finds that his wallet is nearly empty, he meets a stranger who calls himself Shimada Genji and together they hunt monsters all while facing what plagues them the most.





	How Legends Are Made

King’s Row: one of the last great bastions of humanity in a world riddled with monsters.  The people here managed to eke out a decent living with the help of hunters, people with extraordinary skill who stepped in once legions of royal armies fell prey to the endless tide of monsters. Of course, to risk one’s life for free was foolish; their skill always came with a price. And for a hunter like Jesse McCree, altruism was the last thing on their mind when they accepted a job. It was no fun standing toe-to-toe with a rabid werewolf and only receive a pithy ‘thank you’ and even a pat on the back if they were lucky. Money, even in a dark, ravaged world, talks.

 

And unfortunately for McCree, his wallet was pretty silent. That was what drew him to the bustling streets of King’s Row, even if the high density made him a little uncomfortable. Accompanied by his trusty six-shot Peacekeeper at his hip and his face shaded by his trademark cowboy hat, he easily weaved his way through the stream of people. At sunset, people were still in the market square bartering for food stuffs or in line for exotic meals that delighted the olfactory senses of anyone around. For McCree, he was here for one thing and one thing only - the job board.

 

A few hunters had already crowded around it, looking at each and every posting. Without a word, McCree shoved one out of the way so that he could get front-row access to the postings. At first he ignored the hunter he had now pissed off - a loud-mouthed youth who began to scream profanities at him. But when he found that he couldn’t focus thanks to the ruckus, McCree merely gave the other hunter a slow, steadfast glare and watched as the words in his mouth got caught in his throat. He would spare no words for this youth. After all, his inexperience would likely be the death of him the second he stepped outside the walls of King’s Row. Now that the only thing distracting him was the constant murmur of business in the market square, McCree returned his attention to the board. Fae, vampire spawn, zombies, an escort out of the city.

 

In other words, _boring_.

 

McCree knew that he couldn’t afford to be picky but… None of these jobs popped out to him. The escort, perhaps, but the asking price was much too low for the distance traveled. Weakling supernaturals weren’t even worth the price of Peacekeeper’s bullets and with that, the board’s options were exhausted. He stroked his scruffy mustache in thought as he considered his options. The hunter’s guild that dominated King’s Row, Brotherhood of the Defiant, had _carte blanche_ on all of the decent jobs but as poor as he was, McCree wasn’t interested in joining another organization nor could he stomach the thought of selling out… Not yet, at least. Jobs for freelancers like McCree were difficult to come by, either not worth the Brotherhood’s time or much too dangerous to be properly sanctioned by them.

 

Which meant that he would have to go to _her_. McCree let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck pensively. Well, it was about time that he paid her a visit anyway-

 

“And what the hell do you think this is, you freak? You think this is a _joke_?”

 

“Money is money, isn’t it? I don’t understand the problem here.”

 

A foreign accent caught McCree’s attention. Now normally, the denizens of King’s Row were very good at minding their own business, a skill that McCree had honed after years of not giving a shit, but something in his peripheral piqued his interest. He turned to face the merchant stall that the ruckus was coming from and found that the foreigner before it, was in fact, a freak. McCree was a foreigner too but at least he made an attempt to blend in; the foreigner did no such thing. The first thing that caught his attention was his hair, the shocking color of new spring grass, before his gaze trailed down to his garb which was unlike anything he had ever seen before. The foreigner and the merchant were still going at their heated dispute as McCree made his approach.

 

Just as the merchant was about to spit out a retort about the foreign currency, McCree hooked an arm around the foreigner’s shoulder and leaned forward with a suave smile, “Well now, what seems to be the problem here?” Before him were two ripe tomatoes and a head of lettuce while in the foreigner’s hand was exactly what McCree thought it was - two beautifully polished gold coins, the likes of which he had never seen before.

 

“This human won’t take my money! I don’t understand - money is money, isn’t it? Shouldn’t this be able to buy the produce?” McCree barely heard him, trying his best to hide a smirk; if he played his cards right, he wouldn’t have to hunt for a while!

 

“Because _this_ ain’t money I ever seen before. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” The merchant must’ve been a complete dope if a stranger was ready to hand him two hunks of gold for some goddamn produce.

 

McCree hemmed and hawed about the situation, acting as an impromptu mediator between the two of them. “Y’mind if I see that?” He asked as he unhooked himself from the foreigner and held out his hand. Without question, the foreigner handed over the two coins each clinking against each other as he did so. Was this really gold? The stranger couldn’t be _that_ naive could he? Though McCree couldn’t properly appraise the coins, they sure did _look_ like gold. What a strange currency; in all of his travels, he had never seen coins such as these. With a shrug he reached for his wallet, a small hempen satchel that jingled as he extracted it, and assessed the produce, “how much for the goods?”

 

“For you, ten pence.” The merchant crossed his arms over his chest with a huff and narrowed his eyes. McCree whistled at the steep price but wordlessly moved to fish out the required amount.

 

His left arm came out from under his serape, an enchanted arm of pure metal that moved just as well as his fleshy right arm, and counted out the pence before he handed it over to the merchant. “There ya go. See, was that so hard?” He asked with a smooth wink before he turned to the foreigner and clasped his hand on his shoulder amicably, “and now you got your produce. Enjoy.” He turned heel and made his exit, quiet and easy. If he hurried, he could reach an appraiser before they closed for the day and-

 

“Hey, thanks for that. You know, you’re the first nice human I’ve met since coming here.” The voice of the foreigner right next to him burst his bubble _immediately_. “And you’re the first human I’ve seen with an arm like that. It actually works, right? That’s pretty amazing.” Oh no. What was this foreigner doing here? A wild card was suddenly thrown onto the table and McCree had no idea what to do with it. It was a good thing he always thought best on his feet though.

 

“Uhh, no problem.” Why did the foreigner refer to him as a human as though he weren’t human as well? Maybe that was just how they talked in… well, wherever he was from. “Yeah, well, it’s magical.” McCree merely shrugged it off. Around them he noticed that he was starting to receive unwanted attention from others and that made McCree itchy. Between the foreigner looking the way he did and the way that he talked just a little too loud, he was a magnet for attention.

 

Keep your head down and keep your mouth shut. Those were the two rules that Jesse McCree lived and died by and here was this foreigner ruining all that for him.

 

“I’m Shimada Genji, by the way.” McCree heard a loud crunch and realized that the damn foreigner was just… eating a raw head of lettuce. Again he chalked it up to cultural differences as he took ahold of him by the arm and dragged him into a quiet alleyway so that they could get away from the hustle and bustle of the main street.

 

“Look. Genji, was it?” McCree asked, ignoring the stunned look on the foreigner’s face and pressed on before he could say something, “You’re attracting too much attention and I don’t like it. What the hell are you following me around for anyway?” He kept his voice low in case there were any eavesdroppers about. Genji blinked at him a few times before he swallowed his bite of lettuce.

 

“You still have my money.”

 

Damn it. So Genji wasn’t as naive as he seemed. Big deal. McCree knew he still held the cards at the table and he was determined to pull away with the jackpot. “Well, you can consider it thanks for helpin’ you out there. Looks like you were in kind of a bind.”

 

Genji considered what McCree told him, looking down at the produce before he sighed, “Yeah. I haven’t eaten in sooooo long. I’m pretty hungry.” Well, that explained why he took a big chomp out of the lettuce. McCree was pretty sure that Genji was just about to eat those two tomatoes raw as well. “So thank you. I am in your debt.”

 

He almost felt bad for swindling him like this.

 

Almost.

 

“Aw don’t mention it. Consider those coins of yours payment for your debt.” McCree could see that he was rounding the home stretch. Just a bit more convincing and he could shake Genji for good. However, that troubled look Genji wore gave him a bad feeling.

 

“I don’t have a place to stay. I just got here, wherever _here_ is, and I guess my money is no good…” McCree’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. How was it that he didn’t know what the hell King’s Row was? It was the only truly safe city for miles around and it was for that reason that people flocked here. Isn’t that the reason why Genji came here too? His eyes went from Genji, who now started to bite into one of the tomatoes, to the sword strapped to his back. He had never seen quite a sword like it, but really, aesthetics weren’t too important to him at the moment.

 

McCree merely nodded at the sword, “You know how to use that thing?”

 

Genji looked over his shoulder then back to McCree with a cocky smirk, “Of course. No point in wielding it if I didn’t know how to use it.”

 

“You ever hunt monsters?”

 

“Monsters…?” Genji repeated after him with a puzzled look.

 

“Monsters. Y’know. Like vampires and werewolves? Zombies? I don’t know, witches?” The more McCree spoke, the more confused he made Genji. “Look, if you can fight, how about this? You help me fight monsters and you can stay with me for now.”

  


“So when you say _monsters_ , are they human? I don’t really want to be killing humans if I can help it.” Genji was asking too many questions for McCree’s liking.

 

“Look, you in or not?” He extended his hand for Genji to take.

 

“Sure!” However, Genji failed to make good on his end of the handshake. Cultural differences. Right.

 

“Anyway, I guess that makes us partners now.” McCree gave up on the handshake with a shrug. “C’mon. I’ll fill you in on the way to the inn.” He continued down the alleyway, with or without Genji. Well, having an extra body to handle tougher hunts was going to be handy so long as he was as proficient with his sword as he claimed to be. All McCree knew about him right now was that he truly was a curious foreigner - he had never seen anyone like him nor did he act remotely like any other foreigner he had ever seen (and in his travels, he had seen _plenty_ ). Genji jogged up next to him as he finished up the second tomato and wiped away the juices with the back of his hand.

 

“You know, I still don’t know your name.”

 

“You ask too many questions.”

 

“But shouldn’t I know your name if we’re going to be partners?”

 

“Too many questions.”


End file.
